


with an asterisk: worthy of love anyway

by and_hera



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Between Blue Lily and Raven King Ish, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Yearning, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/and_hera/pseuds/and_hera
Summary: Ronan is sprawled out on his back, hands behind his head, legs everywhere, shoes leaving dirt on Adam’s floor. He talks and talks and talks— Adam knows that most people see him as sullen and silent, but Adam also knows that Ronan only does it for the effect. Ronan is sullen and loud.or, Adam Parrish is always lonesome, but he wonders if that always has to be the case.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 18
Kudos: 178





	with an asterisk: worthy of love anyway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parrishgansvy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parrishgansvy/gifts).



> this is for my dumbass friend candle. it's her birthday today, so i wrote some pynch in her honor. camel, i hope you enjoy this fic full of yearning and dumb boys who don't know how to process their feelings. mwah.  
> title comes from three by sleeping at last!

When it first began, it was only a way for Adam to alleviate his stress. Because damn, it does help to be able to make fun of Ronan for a few hours.

But it has become something else entirely, which is odd only because he doesn’t mind the change. It is odd because he likes their little song and dance, their routine.

Ronan is sprawled out on his back, hands behind his head, legs everywhere, shoes leaving dirt on Adam’s floor. He talks and talks and talks— Adam knows that most people see him as sullen and silent, but Adam also knows that Ronan only does it for the effect. Ronan is sullen and loud.

“So this  _ fucker _ ,” Ronan continues, Adam half listening as he tries to remember what conjugation  _ tego _ is in (first or third? he can’t remember). His voice is nice to listen to, Adam thinks somewhere in the back left corner of his brain. He shoves the thought further back.

_ Tego, tegere, texi, tectum,  _ don’t think about Lynch. First person present subjunctive is  _ tegam _ . I will defend. 

“You even listening, Parrish?” Ronan asks, as if he doesn’t know that Adam tunes him out most of the nights he comes to St. Agnes. “I’m telling you  _ great _ stories about the few times I have been to school this year and you don’t even pay attention.”

“Maybe you’d have more interesting stories if you went to school more often, Lynch,” Adam says absentmindedly, and he feels Ronan smack his leg from the floor. “I’m trying to do Latin, you shit.”

“Give me the sentence.”

“He believes that I will defend the troops with my life.”

Ronan thinks for a second. “Credit tegam cum mea vita.”

Adam nods. “Yeah, that’s right.” He sighs, finishing scribbling down the last few words. “If only you would put effort into other classes, too.” He knows Ronan won’t. It’s more of an obligation to say it now, since he has said it every other night that Ronan visits. It’s a tradition.

As is Ronan’s response: “Fuck off, Parrish.”

But tonight, he continues talking. “Let’s go do something.”

Adam blinks. “Do what?”

“I don’t know. Drive. Let’s get eggs.”

“Eggs?”

“To throw at Gansey, of course.”

“We don’t have to throw them at him. He’s already an egghead.”

“Fine then, we’ll get a plant. To spice up this shithole.” He gestures to the apartment as a whole.

Adam sighs. He’s almost done with Latin anyway, and it’s his only assignment tonight. “Okay. But you’re buying it. I don’t need a plant.”

Ronan smiles, the one made of electricity and car headlights. “Okay. And I’m driving.”

“The store isn’t far, Lynch.”

“We’re not going to that one.”

“Which one, then?”

“Dunno. We’ll see which one is farthest away from here.”

Adam sighs, again. “No racing.”

Ronan smirks, again. “I only do that with Noah. No extra weight.”

Adam stands up from his desk, cracks his back, grabs his shoes and ties them quickly. Ronan stands up, cracks his knuckles and yanks one of Adam’s shoes untied again. He leaves, ducking his head to go through the old, old wooden door.

Adam follows, taking one last look at his homework. “Excelsior,” he says, because it’s tradition, and closes the door.

Adam Parrish is always lonesome, but he’s on nights like this he wonders if that’s always the case.

Because tonight, as Henrietta street lights are lit over the quiet roads, as the world seems to be finally peaceful, as the city is asleep— when Ronan’s car is tearing by, making more noise than the whole town together— Adam is  _ awake _ .

He rolls down the window and looks out, thinking, and Ronan is playing his shitty music as loud as it can go, and they’re just driving to God knows where. Adam is  _ alive _ . And so is Ronan, because on nights like this, Ronan is more of himself than he ever is.

Adam Parrish is always lonesome, but on nights like this he is less so.

He looks at Ronan who is driving with some joyous thrill, who just  _ is  _ such a way that Adam can see plainly that he is more than a boy, how can everyone not see it, because he is plainly something more than this world can handle, something more than this world is used to, and isn’t it  _ obvious _ ? 

Adam isn’t sure when he started thinking about Ronan like this, but he is starting to think it might be a problem.

Ronan turns and catches his gaze, a faint smile still playing on his lips. He looks and looks and looks and Adam just keeps looking back.

Ronan has to be the first to look away, since he is driving a car, but Adam wishes he didn’t have to.

“What kind of plant are you going to buy,” Adam asks, since it is easier to talk than be left to his thoughts.

Ronan shrugs. “I know jack shit about plants that aren’t in Cabeswater. We’ll see how it goes.”

“I’m glad I’m coming with you. Whatever poor unfortunate store we end up at doesn’t deserve to deal with you alone.”

“Well then, it is good that you’re coming along, Parrish. We can’t have a store terrorized by a local teen.”

“You say ‘local teen,’ the headline says ‘feral shithead.’”

“Hey, don’t flatter me.”

Adam smiles. He is awake. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ronan turns up the music, a feat Adam didn’t think was possible. “I remember this store,” he says, “the one we’re going to. It’s close to the Barns. Mom took us shopping sometimes.”

“Your mother willingly took three boys to a store?”

“It was a rare event.”

Adam huffs a laugh. “I can’t figure out how your mother dealt with all three of you. Especially you. How does a person take care of a little shit that can dream things into existence?”

“You should be asking how she managed to raise Declan,” Ronan argues. “Now that right there is a troublesome child if I ever saw one.”

“Was he born in a gray suit?”

“I wasn’t there, but I assume so.”

Adam laughs now, and Ronan presses his foot heavier on the pedal. “Are we almost there?”

“No,” Ronan says, “but we’ll be there in seven. Maybe less.”

“Don’t get pulled over.”

Ronan flashes a smile at him. “I won’t.”

The first day Ronan came to St. Agnes, Adam was having a bad day.

To put it simply, he was thinking of home. To put it not simply, he did not know why but he could not do anything without reminding himself of his father, and he hated himself for it.

Ronan showed up. Adam was going to punch him because goddamn it can’t he have one day to be off and then tomorrow he’ll be back, tell Gansey that he’s fine and just isn’t feeling great, Lynch. And Ronan said he would do no such thing and sat down criss crossed on the floor and started talking.

Adam doesn’t remember what he talked about. He just remembers his heart being able to beat at the right tempo again, as if Ronan was his own personal conductor. He remembers not thinking about his father and he remembers Ronan giving him his headphones and phone for the night and telling him to listen to anything, because he it wasn’t like he was going to use his phone for anything anyway.

Adam remembers drowning, and he remembers Ronan pulling him out. And despite Adam’s need to do everything himself, he was okay with being helped, just the one time.

And then it became a thing. Ronan coming over. Being a dick in general, really. But somehow, he can tell when Adam isn’t right. Gansey sees Adam as not okay all the time, and sure, he isn’t wrong. But Ronan  _ knows  _ Adam, just a little bit. Ronan knows the unknowable, something that should be impossible, but for a boy made of dreams, he supposes it’s allowed.

Adam supposes it’s allowed, just this once. He’ll let him in, just a little bit. This is something that goes against his fundamental Adamness, but he does it anyway. Because despite how useful and how important it is to be lonesome, sometimes it is more lonely than he had imagined.

“You should get a fucking cactus,” Ronan says, and Adam gives an apologetic look to the cashier, or the only other person in the store.

“It would be easy to take care of,” Adam muses, brushing his fingers against the prickly parts of one.

“Fuck that, they look cool,” Ronan replies, and he isn’t wrong. “Also, they would totally match your plant thing you have going since you and Cabeswater—” he makes a gesture with his hands that vaguely looks like two things coming together. “It would be nice in your room.”

“Well, since you’re in my room just about as much as I am, I guess you should have a say,” Adam says. He picks up two succulents, one long and draping over the sides of the jar, one standing straight up with spikes. “Which one?”

Ronan touches the spiky one. “This one,” he says, and that’s that.

Adam is almost disappointed to be back to St. Agnes. This is nothing new, since he still doesn’t really think of the place as home, but he didn’t think that feeling would hit him today.

But it hasn’t, he realizes. He isn’t sad. He was just happier with Ronan, in the car, at the store.

Ronan starts to grab all of his things he left scattered across the room and before Adam can stop himself he says “stay.”

“What?” Ronan says, looking genuinely caught off guard. And well, there isn’t much Adam can do now.

“Stay here for the night,” he says. “You can help me finish my Latin. I’ll stay on the floor.”

“No you will not, little shit,” Ronan says almost instinctively. “Your back is shitty enough as it is. But— you’re sure that’s alright?”

Oh. “Yeah,” Adam replies. “I’m sure.”

Adam does his Latin. He does not need Ronan’s help, but Ronan gives it anyway. He does not need Ronan to stay, but he does anyway.

And, when they fall asleep, if Adam spends an extra minute staring at the way Ronan looks when he’s sleeping, that’s no one’s business but his own.

He wonders why he told Ronan to stay. He didn’t mean to.

But, then again, he thinks, he did. He didn’t want Ronan to go, tonight.

Adam gently lays his arm across the bed so that his hand dangles off the end. If he and Ronan were on the same level, they would be holding hands.

Adam saves the memory in his brain, takes a screenshot of it, clings to it tightly.

He is awake tonight, even though it’s time to go to sleep. He doesn’t want to forget this feeling.

“Goodnight,” he whispers to Ronan, even though he’s already asleep. “Sweet dreams,” he whispers to Ronan, ironically.

Sweet dreams, he thinks to himself, and he falls asleep, hand still reaching out to Ronan.


End file.
